


secret sin

by bbvqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Body Worship, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dom!BB, Dom/sub, Edging, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, Face-Sitting, Felching, Gags, Identity Issues, M/M, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Somnophilia, Spanking, Spitroast, Sub!V, Subspace, Switching, Threesome, poetic bdsm i guess, power bottom BB, some bbkaz, some bottom BB, some vkaz, some vosselot, v made bb cry idek what to say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-24 23:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4938778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbvqueen/pseuds/bbvqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bbvenom smut dump, featuring some bottom boss and bbvocelhira cause im trash</p><p>heavy bdsm and D/s elements</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. secret

“Open your eyes.”

He does, of course, because he can’t not listen to his own voice. He blinks, and what he sees is his own rutted face, but with less scars, looking healthy and whole. There are still those shadows in his eyes – no, eye. The other is a black pit.

He shifts back an inch, and Big Boss shifts forward an inch. He spreads his legs more to accommodate his advancing frame. They are in sync, although he can hardly see in the dim twilight filtering through the window. It’s never been necessary, he supposes.

“Nn…” His other half grips his shoulder, thumb digging into his collarbone. The left hand strokes the hardening length through the thick fabric of his BDU pants, appraisingly. Venom hears him click his tongue, then breathe an appreciative sigh full of grit, close to his ear.

“You’re so hard already. Wound up, are we…?”

His metallic digits scrape along the surface of the wooden table. It creaks in protest under their combined weight when Big Boss leans into him, his flesh and blood fingers deftly working both the belt buckle and the fly open in a matter of seconds. He pulls his half-grown cock out, taking him into his palm, squeezing it gently. His prick throbs in response, warm precum beading at the tip before it trickles down the shaft and onto his fingers.

The heat keeps pooling between his legs, a fist of obscene desire that had buried itself in his gut twisting violently. All these years he’d just had his voice in his head, and now, now –

 _It’s all right_ , the other Big Boss whispers into his ear.  _It’s our secret_.

No one knows. No one will ever know. That there’s two of them, that they can both exist in the same place and touch each other. A walking, intoxicating contradiction. It makes him feel lightheaded, and his gaze drops down to Big Boss’s waist, to see his own erection strain against the material. He reaches for it, trying to touch real fingers to it, but the other man has freed himself before he does, a lazy routine to his movements.

There’s the soft rumble of a laugh, right above or next to him, it doesn’t matter; it’s become a physical thing at this point, just like everything else. His lips part as he stares at Big Boss grabbing his own enormous cock and shoving his hips forward so it meets his. It’s a deep ruddy color, and bemusedly he realizes that the inch he has on Big Boss up here, Big Boss has on him down there.

Venom loses a guttural noise when Big Boss’s large, calloused hand presses their dicks together, and he begins to grind and thrust just enough to produce some minimum of friction. His hand flies up to Big Boss’s shoulder, holding onto him and mirroring him again.

“Boss…” He murmurs, deeply inhaling his musky scent as he buries his face in his throat. There are traces of cigar smoke, blood, liquor, leather and rain – smells like wet dog. He knows he smells the same, and he thinks he could get drunk on that scent, absentmindedly licking along Big Boss’s jugular vein and biting softly into the skin.

There’s his pulse.  _Their_ pulse. Big Boss continues rutting against him, sliding their flesh together, but soon his hand isn’t enough anymore.

“Boss,” Venom grunts, impatient. He arches against him, disrupting their pace.

“What…?”

He knows exactly  _what_ , but he knows what this is. He knows this man intimately. He wants to hear something.

Venom lifts his chin and rubs his bristled cheek against his, his thighs locking tighter around Big Boss’s waist. His lips brush over the corner of his mouth, where he gives a heated, exasperated sigh.

And Big Boss laughs, again; a brief, mellow chuckle. Venom leans his head back so he can look at him, his gaze meeting his lone blue eye, unfaltering.

“Fuck me, Boss. Deep and hard. Slam your cock into my ass until I’m sore and the table gives,” Venom says –  _demands_. “Make it so that I’ll feel you for days, even when I’m out in the field. Make it so that I can’t forget. I want you whole.”

Big Boss pauses. His eyelid lowers a fraction, his next inhale of breath a bit sharper than the one before.

“ … That’s what I want to hear,” hums Big Boss, unceremoniously grabbing Venom’s hips and pulling at them, stepping back. He eases him down on the table, yanks at his pants next.

“I know,” Venom says, accommodating him. He clicks his tongue.

“Winds you right up.”


	2. beaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is nothing but filthy D/s bdsm porn

V had learned fairly early on that his Boss likes it when he puts up a bit of a struggle, for a reason he can relate to all too well: men like them, who look the most attractive with a knife in their hand and a bit of blood in their beard, are subject to an atavistic resurgence of the overwhelmingly primal urge to work for their meat, and work hard, rather than having it handed to them on a silver platter.

That explanation sounds way better in his head than admitting to the very simple truth that Big Boss is a sadist that welcomes any excuse to act on his impulses, and subsequently derive pleasure from establishing his dominance over and over again. Mostly because it would expose him as the other side of that coin: the willing masochist who absorbs punishment like a sponge, before being squeezed dry.

Then again, he’s fairly sure he’s stopped giving a shit about the moral implications a long time ago, even if he can’t remember it. Probably better that way.

“You’re being bad today,” Big Boss tuts amiably, and his hand crashes down against the tender, swollen flesh of V’s ass in a loud slap. He can’t stifle the whine that slips out of him, and although he squirms reflexively on top of Big Boss, he does nothing to move off him.

“Wipe that grin off your face.”

His palm slams against his ass again, hitting the exact same spot, already sporting a ruddy imprint in the shape of his hand. V cries out at both the sharp sting of pain blossoming across his cheek and the simultaneous shiver of wicked pleasure shooting up his spine; the dichotomy of these two extremes only widens his self-indulgent grin, as if he has no control over his facial expression, even if he wanted to heed Big Boss’s advice.

“I’m bad,” he says, because it feels _good_ to say it, and so does Big Boss’s hard hand, his penetrating gaze, his steadfast presence. Big Boss sighs, exasperated, and begins to knead both throbbing ass cheeks, hot to the touch -- not to soothe the pain though, but to massage it deeper into the flesh, dragging his nails over the skin.

V loosens a feeble moan, his back curving, fingers twitching and clawing at the sheets at either side of Big Boss’s head. His backside recoils instinctively, grinding against Big Boss’s abs and pelvis; their stiff erections sandwiched between their sweat-slick bodies.

They’ve been at this for a while, at least half an hour -- forwards and backwards, reversing their positions many times over, and whenever Big Boss had tried to seize control V had wriggled out of his grasp before he could wrap the rope around his neck or wrists. His reward had always been Big Boss’s hand, flat or curled into a fist, raining down on his ass or slamming into his side. At the end of the night his number of bruises would rival the scars scattered across his body, but he usually gave up sooner rather than later, letting Big Boss have his way -- even if that often meant that he would find himself immobilized for most of the ‘session’, and maliciously driven to a point where he no longer recognized the voice coming out of his own mouth.

Aside from being a sadist, Big Boss also has a foible for methodically peeling away layer after layer of whatever carefully crafted dignity a man still possesses, and then gently cutting the last remaining thread of his self-restraint. V doesn’t know if he has done this to other people as well -- a side of himself that he hadn’t had any access to during his therapy --, or if he’s a special case because of who he is... or rather, who he has become. Thinking about it makes him feel antsy and seems pointless, not like Big Boss leaves him much mental room to think about anyone but him during these times. So he doesn’t attempt to.

What he does attempt, however, is to get what he want without having to beg for it, just once. He’s still not sliding off Big Boss and onto his back into a more submissive position, resting his entire weight on him, rocking it vigorously back and forth for some well-deserved friction.

Even if that means that Big Boss abuses his ass even more. The next smack of supple leather against his burning skin only draws a grunt out of him.

“I want your dick inside my ass,” he demands, upfront. Big Boss snorts, disparaging.

“I don’t care about what you want, V.”

V huffs, frustration caused by Big Boss’s nonchalant dismissal fueling his movements. There’s an invisible, insurmountable barrier in place that prevents him from rebelling more than this -- passive, non-violent resistance is all he’s capable of.

At least Big Boss hasn’t thrown him off again, yet. He’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

“You know what _I_ want?” Big Boss coos, flashing his teeth. He’s oddly calm. V is still rutting against him, pursing his lips, but instinctively perking up.

“Right now I really want to knock you out, then lock you up in the basement for a few days until you learn that being cheeky with me gets you nowhere fast. Maybe I’ll send some of my men down there to keep you company. I’m sure they’ll be happy to give you all the dick you could possibly want. Now, doesn’t that sound like a plan to you?”

V halts and leans his head back, his own breathing slowing down, becoming shallow. He’s absurdly aware of the cold sweat running down his temple -- it’s one of those times where he can’t tell for sure if Big Boss is just messing with him.

He blurts, “I don’t -- “

 _Want_ , but Big Boss stops him mid-sentence, just by slightly narrowing his eye. “Ah _ah_. Try again.”

He deflates. Now he realizes why Big Boss didn’t bother with wrestling control from him physically: because he doesn’t have to.

“...No sir.”

He always has it, one way or another. The hands rub over his bottom gingerly, in comforting circles, before one of them slides between his thighs to cradle and squeeze his balls, and he flinches, scrunching up his face.

“Why not, V?” Big Boss has the gall to ask, in that innocent voice and with an arched eyebrow, playing with his testicles, and V knows that Big Boss wouldn’t hesitate to crush them if he doesn’t like the answer.

V swallows. Big Boss cranes his neck, licks over his pulse, from his collarbone up to his chin. His beard tickles as it brushes over the wet trail his tongue has left.

“’Cause... you’re the only one -- who may use me in this way.” _It’s not about me, it’s about you._

“That’s right,” Big Boss murmurs against his throat before he softly bites into it. V gives a shuddering sigh when he feels his fingers wander from his balls over his perineum to his dry, puckered asshole, circling and poking it curiously.

“You’d sooner kill them all.”

“Yes,” he assents promptly, almost pavlovian. He would, of course he would; he knows where his place is, right here, on this lap, with his ass a deep shade of red, aching and trembling.

He wants him so bad he can hardly string together a coherent thought, much less a spoken sentence.

“Please,” he murmurs, huskily, when a digit teases his twitching hole. He supposes in the end there was also no need for Big Boss to tie him up and break his resolve; he does a fine job of that himself. He’d do anything to feel less hollow and more like a complete person, and he can only do that by losing himself in Big Boss and everything he represents. The other man knows this, waits for him to plead more, demurely, and oh, he does.

“Please, Boss, please.”

“There’s a good boy.”

His chuckle vibrates against his throat like it was produced in V’s own.

“Alright,” Big Boss mercifully relents, sinking back down into the sheets, and V’s tongue darts out to lick over his own lips. “But you do it yourself. And I wanna see your face.” His double nods, relief washing over him as he sits up to straddle Big Boss proper, tension replaced by anticipation and silent gratitude. The older man stretches out beneath him, reaches for the bottle of lube strategically placed on the bedside table, right next to the ashtray. He tosses it to V, who catches it effortlessly and gets to work straight away.

‘Do it yourself’ also means that he has to take care of any preparation, but it’s not something he wants to waste much time with, too horny for his own good and mildly worried that Big Boss might change his mind. He squirts some of the cold lubricant onto the fingers of his right hand, and they disappear behind himself to routinely finger his hole open. He’s more attentive when it comes to Big Boss’s sizable cock, spreading a generous amount of lube over the pulsing, thick-veined shaft until it’s completely coated and so slick that he has a hard time maintaining his grasp on it. It’s necessary for a smooth ride, he knows -- his Boss is well-endowed and by no means an easy fit, but once you’ve gotten used to his length and girth, being fucked by him is pure bliss. His thrusts are the kind that make you see stars, the kind that makes your balls tense up and quiver with the growing need to blow their own load.

It takes all of his willpower not to slam his hips down when he guides the bulbous, flared head of his dick to his own asshole, easing him inside, and he stretches around his fat prick with little to no pain involved. He feels Big Boss’s sweltering gaze resting on him, watching him the whole way through, and that makes the heat creeping up into his face and twisting in his gut even more apparent. He braces himself against his solid shoulders once he’s in deep enough, slowly lowering himself down to impale himself on his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, under his breath, entirely taken by the sensation of the cock spearing him. Big Boss says something, but for the moment he’s reduced to his dick, so his words don’t register.

“You really like having my fat cock buried inside your ass, huh?” His fingertips are ghosting over V’s thighs and flanks, running up and down the flushed skin -- V doesn’t react, shoving his own hips further down until his balls touch Big Boss’s stomach, feeling the coarse curls of some pubic hair. He groans lowly when he’s fully seated, satisfied, the hard rod of his erection snug against his prostate.

He’s forced to pay attention when two palms smack against both of his sore ass cheeks, wringing an alarmed shriek from him -- “I asked you a question, soldier!” -- and then he tapers off into a howl of agony. Big Boss gropes his bottom possessively like raw slabs of meat.

“Yes, sir!” He hisses and rolls his eyes back, shaken by the intense pain flaring up _on_ his ass lacing with the pleasure inside it, and plants his own hands on top of Big Boss’s, approvingly. He needs to catch his breath before he can answer, “I _love_ to have every last inch of your massive cock shoved up my fucking ass, sir.”

It’s not a lie, never has been. Big Boss laughs at the filth he’s already spouting, but there’s no malice in it. V manages a tight but honest smile in return, gasping when Big Boss pulls his ass cheeks further apart so he can fit in an additional inch.

“Boss…” His fingers flutter over Big Boss’s, as if looking for purchase.

“Go ahead.”

V shifts his weight to his front instead, holding onto Big Boss’s upper arms, the muscles in his biceps flexing, and so do those in his own shapely thighs when he pushes himself off the mattress only to immediately sink down again. He’s too enthusiastic, and the cock almost slips out of him, but Big Boss swiftly moves his hand further down to keep it trapped inside.

It doesn’t take him long at all to find a rhythm his body agrees with, or the right angle – soon he’s panting heavily, rolling his hips in mostly fluid undulations, more or less graceful at times, but always faultlessly passionate. He feels so stuffed and fulfilled just doing this, riding Big Boss’s cock, he doesn’t even care about his own neglected erection, or how long it will take until he gets off – it’s all pushed to the back of his mind.

“Love it,” he murmurs quietly, inwardly chiding himself because the ‘it’ almost came out as a ‘you’, and he doesn’t want to ruin this with thoughtless remarks that are sure to put Big Boss into a sour mood. So he concentrates on the sensation of Big Boss’s enormous dick sliding in and out of his tight asshole, dragging along his prostate with each stroke. Each of them adds to the pressure building in his gut and sends jolts of toe-curling pleasure to his bouncing cock, precum dribbling from the tip and down his shaft in one constant stream.

Big Boss himself remains mostly passive, spreading his own legs just enough so he can meet the other man halfway, thrusting upwards and into him at his own leisure, unpredictable, and every time he does, V rasps an affectionate cuss or slur, because he manages to simultaneously disrupt his slow, lasting pace and make him crave a much harder one.

“Quit your whining,” Big Boss scolds the next time he stabs his prostate unbidden, thighs slapping against his ass and causing V to swear and grimace. He fully expects another spanking to drive more pain into him, but what he does instead his sneak his hands to his back, pulling him down, then running them to his pectoral to –

“Hngh, Boss, _fuck_ – “

– to violently twist a dark, erect nipple, pinching it hard, and harder still, then pulling on it. V cries out and Big Boss continues not to care, ramming into his ass when his motions become erratic.

“You fucking love that too, you slut,” Big Boss grunts, and V has to brace himself against the headboard when Big Boss yanks at him more, arching towards him to flick his tongue over the other nipple and catch it between his teeth.

And V lets out a wanton, whorish moan. He’s helplessly aroused for reasons he cannot explain, his cock feeling hot and heavy. He buries his face into his own arm, to wipe some sweat from his brow that way, trying to calm down his own rapid pulse but it’s futile.

“Say it,” Big Boss orders, his breath scalding against his nipple, and he licks over it again, then wraps his lips around it and sucks it into his mouth, producing wet, slobbery noises. The other nipple is being mistreated at the same time, rolled between two fingers and scratched viciously by a sharp nail.

“I fucking love it,” he groans, and it’s still not a lie. He couldn’t lie to Big Boss even if he wanted to.

“I love it when you hurt me, sir. I love anything you do or say to me, because it’s you.”

The words come easily. Saying it like that feels so cathartic he almost starts to weep, but Big Boss doesn’t grant him much time for self-reflection. Maybe later.

“Damn right you do. You’re happy like this -- just like your men. You only need your boss to take care of you.”

“Yes…” He whines softly, so very agreeable, clenching down on the cock still lodged in his ass.

“So I’m gonna do that.”

Big Boss gives his nipple a last lick, pressing a kiss to it and releasing the other one, letting himself fall back onto the mattress. V breathes in and out, tightening his grip on the headboard while Big Boss’s hands do the same with his hips. He half expects him to start plowing into him, but compared to before Big Boss only mildly accelerates the pace, dictated by his powerful thighs – it’s forceful but manageable, and V can keep up with him, grinding against his groin, nearly moving as one and meeting each of his thrusts.

“Boss…” He moans, long-winded and needy, and again when he feels a strong confident hand wrap around his dick to work him in a matching rhythm.

It’s all true, what Big Boss says. He’s always struggled with filling his shoes, and deep down he does want to be taken care of, instead; to be told what to do, to be used, even if it hurts. Life is a burden, and while he’s ready to take responsibility, he would rather pass it onto someone else, someone higher to escape from the pressure. It’s endlessly liberating, not having to think.

Being able to reverently call someone Boss, in the same voice he hears every day, coming from his men. He was one of them, once. He still is.

He’s happy like this.

“I’m gonna cum,” he croaks already, after only a few minutes. He doesn’t have to ask if Big Boss is close too because he never is. He fervently, urgently bounces on his enormous cock. “Boss, _Boss_ ,” he mewls, voice rising in desperation, silently asking for permission.

He doesn’t always receive it, but he’s infinitely glad when Big Boss tells him, “That’s fine.”

And that does it, like a trigger – V screws his eye shut and holds his breath as his orgasm ripples through his body, finally releasing the pressure that had pooled between his legs. He feels a pulse at the base of his dick, and the instant it begins to squirt the rough warmth of Big Boss’s palm disappears, instead locking his waist resolutely into place. V makes garbled noises; a series of ragged, disoriented gasps when he finds he can no longer move to ride his orgasm out, and instead Big Boss rams the entire length of his dick up his ass, until he’s fully sheathed.

“Boss _ssss_ –“ He wails, plaintively.

He convulses, cock sputtering out his cum in slow bursts, and whenever it looks like he’s done Big Boss pulls out and slams his cock back into him, forcing another thick spurt of cum out of him until he’s milked him dry like that, shaking and trembling in his grasp.

“Gorgeous,” Big Boss remarks, V’s face flushed and contorted in excruciating pleasure. He comes for at least a minute, a number of white, viscous streaks of semen splattering across Big Boss’s smooth chest.

V slumps with a satisfied sigh when the last drop trails down his shaft, and Big Boss’s grip goes lax, allowing him to wiggle free. Big Boss’s still hard cock slips out of him and slaps against his ass when he sits down on his taut stomach.

His backside still hurts, but by now he’s so numb and used to it that it barely even registers as uncomfortable. Every muscle in his body burns, pleasantly so, and the dull throb in his cheeks and nipples just rekindles his ebbing arousal – as does the sight of Big Boss under him, between his thighs, still fixating V like prey.

Yeah, he’s happy like this.

“That was mean,” he pouts, shifting back and leaning down in hopes for a kiss, after which his mouth would drift lower to lasciviously clean up the mess he made and then – then he’d worship and swallow the cock that had brought him to his peak, his lips and tongue doing the same for him.

Or at least, that’s how it would’ve gone if he were the one leading.

“I wouldn’t be _mean_ if you’d just let me do my thing. Now that you’re happy, maybe I can go back to what I had originally planned?” Big Boss grouches, and before he can process what’s happening he has thrown him off. V finds himself bouncing on the mattress next to him, blinking in confusion as he is flipped onto his stomach.

“Wait –“

He doesn’t. V’s breath hitches, he squirms uselessly. Big Boss descends on him, collecting both wrists, mechanical and flesh, to twist and pin them onto his back without mercy.

“No,” he says. “You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

He’s right, of course; it’s his own fault that his ass feels like it’s on fire when Big Boss plunges into him again, this time pounding him in earnest, jackhammering his cock so brutally into his body that V’s head starts to spin – but it’s okay, it’s fine, because he loves the vulgar smack of his heavy balls on his every time his hips snap against his bottom, putting two hundred pounds of muscle into every harsh, grueling thrust.

The chopper rides in the following days would be uncomfortable.

“Yes, sir,” he squeezes out between Big Boss’s unforgiving jabs, “I was bad, please, ngh – fuck me **harder**.” he trails off into a guttural growl, turning his head as much as he can to look at Big Boss over his shoulder. The man has him by his neck, keeps him in place, keeping him from using his arms.

And he does fuck him harder.

“I want it, fucking, _**fuck**_ , fuck come inside my slutty ass,” he sputters, bites into a pillow to make himself shut up (sometimes he can’t believe what comes out his mouth), and Big Boss laughs, darkly.

That’s just it, what he likes to hear. That point.

He’s more generous than usual this time, because he does empty himself into his bruised, _slutty_ ass, shooting a generous amount of cum up his rectum after he’s used his hole thoroughly, muffling any orgasmic noises by biting into V’s shoulder, tearing a subdued scream from him.

He stays like this, laying on top of him, even when he pulls out and no longer pins him down by force.

So does V.

Minutes pass. “Hrm,” he grunts, feeling Big Boss’s weight on hisback and shoulders, both hurting, and listens closely to his heartbeat, his breath gradually slowing down. He knows him well enough to conclude that he’s drifting off to sleep, letting down his guard. 

Looks like he still won’t get a kiss tonight.

That’s fine.

V doesn’t slip out from under him. All he does his feel blindly for Big Boss’s arm, to bring up the hand that had struck him more often than he’d bothered to count. He pulls the glove off and kisses his palm, then shoves it between his head and the sheets, resting the right side of his face on it.


	3. taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a scene i originally wanted to expand upon and possibly include in sweet dreams, but as i continue to work out the plot there's probably no room for it. so here it is in all its unedited glory

Big Boss slams into him, his body made of solid muscle and pinning his double’s very similar one to the ground with abrupt force. V cushions his own impact with both hands, tries to steady himself and elbow the man at his back, blindly aiming for the ribs, and he hits. Big Boss grunts, collects the wrists that’s more fragile, twisting it onto V’s back until it nearly snaps.

He growls, but he sounds very much like a cornered, small animal.

“Get off me, get off,” he hisses and throws his own considerable weight from one side to the other, but Big Boss has him trapped, has strategically blocked the easy ways to wiggle free. His arm crawls along V’s shoulders, sneaks around his neck and hugs his throat tight, forcing his phantom to recline his head. His breathing becomes more labored by the second, and V watches Big Boss cautiously out of the corner of his remaining eye, spots his profile. Close enough to feel the warm puffs of air when he speaks. Close enough for his chest to touch his back when he inhales.

“I can do what I want.”

V snorts and grits his teeth, and his desperate thrashing grows weaker. “Stop - “

“And whatever I want is what you want.” Big Boss’s grip mirrors the tension in V’s body, becoming lax. His palm covers V’s mouth, stifling a whimper, and his fingers pry apart his swollen lips and teeth to push inside the same moment his other hand finishes working open his double’s pistol belt buckle to yank down his pants, exposing his ass.

V swallows around the digits that are pressing against and framing his tongue, and he starts sucking on them before he’s even given the order.

“Suck. Get them wet, so I can get _you_ wet like the - “

V feels his the tip of Big Boss tongue poke the shell of his ear, followed by a hot, gritty exhale of breath.

“Little slut you are.”

His cock jumps, and he harshly sucks in the stale, incalescent air.

“S… stop this,” V rolls his eyes, and the words are barely intelligible, mixed with spit and surrender. “I don’t - _**want**_ \- “

_(”What are your most private dreams, V?”_

_“My most private…?” V parrots, but forgets and swallows the last word when he dives between Big Boss’s lips for another one of those rare and very indulgent kisses, perhaps in vague hopes that he can make his boss shut up for a little bit. Not that he doesn’t enjoy listening to him - it just doesn’t happen often that he’s in a mellow enough mood that V can touch him freely. Which is fine, because it makes these times so much more precious in his own mind._

_“Hn, you know… your dreams are mine… a world where soldiers will always have a place… Outer Heaven…” He squeezes the words out inbetween little licks and nips on Big Boss’s bottom lip, and he’s honestly just babbling at this point, reciting whatever Big Boss had told him once about his plans, sure that’s what he expects to hear._

_“No,” says Big Boss, and takes both of his wandering hands. V leans back to look at him, puzzled, shuffling back on his lap just an inch or two._

_“Dreams you have about me.”_

_V cants his head like a_ confused _, small animal. Big Boss frowns._

_“Fantasies. Images that turn you on.”_

_“There’s many,” comes the answer, prompt and evasive. His gaze drops, but Big Boss commands it up again with a scowl of his own._

_“Which one gets your cock the hardest? Tell me.”_

_V closes his eyes for a few seconds, and considers. He’s not sure why he’s feeling mildly embarrassed about this question - it’s not like there’s any room for secrets between the both of them. Perhaps it’s humility. But if he asks like that -_

_“When you take me by force,” he admits, eventually._

_“By force?” Big Boss echoes, inquisitively. He lets go of V’s wrists, his fingers ghosting over the curves of his hips instead._

_“You mean like - rape.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Isn’t that a contradiction in itself?”_

Like us.

_“Huh?”_

_“I’m pretty sure it’s not rape if you_ want _it, V.”_

_“I could pretend,” V says, playing along, sensing that Big Boss is generous tonight and perhaps looking for inspiration. He leans against and into him, bracing his feet against the ground so their seat doesn’t topple over. “I could lie. I could act. I’ve done a good job of that so far, right, Boss?” He kisses the corner of his mouth and massages the back of his neck in small circles. Big Boss hums, contemplates._

_“You know you can’t fool me, though. Not with words, anyway.”_

_“I’ll fight,” he murmurs,_ though for how long, _he adds quietly, kissing Big Boss on the mouth. He reciprocates, grabs his waist. “I’ll fight for as long as I can. Rape me -”_

_And as if on cue, Big Boss’s teeth suddenly tear into his bottom lip. V cusses, tastes blood, and instinctively stops himself from lashing out in retaliation, and that earns him a fist smashing against his head, before he’s thrown off Big Boss’s lap, only to be kicked in the ribs by a reinforced boot while he’s disoriented._

_He understands, compartmentalizes, shuts off._

_The next time Big Boss pulls back for momentum, V dodges him, pushes himself to his feet and charges at him, roaring, retaliating.)_

His jaw clamps down and he doesn’t let go even when Big Boss lets out a brief, surprised scream. His mouth is filled with blood immediately, overflowing and painting his chin red because he doesn’t swallow, only concentrates on biting down like a hungry dog would on a slab of meat. Big Boss tries to tear his fingers away, and he pulls violently at V’s scalp at the same time. When he finally manages a piece of skin remains between V’s teeth, who can’t even appreciate the taste of Big Boss’s blood because his head is immediately ground into the floor, the side with the shrapnel, so hard and sudden that his head begins to spin and his vision blacks out.

He thinks he might have lost consciousness. What fight he had in him dies with that last, vicious strike which he’s sure has given him a concussion. And more brain damage, the shrapnel digging deeper into his skull. He feels blood run down his forehead when Big Boss pulls him up again, grunting. He blinks it away.

“I was about to take it slow, loosen up your hole,” Big Boss snarls, close to his ear. Then he collects some saliva in his mouth and spits it at his face.

“Now it’s gonna be raw.”

He slams his face, covered in scars and blood and spit, back into the ground, the bruised hand pins him there by his neck while he quickly unbuckles his belt. V groans, struggling for consciousness and high from the adrenaline rush. His own cock is as hard as Big Boss’s when he pulls it out, but not as dry. He hears him spit again but it doesn’t hit his asshole; Big Boss strokes himself maybe once, twice, then he lowers his weight and forces his fat dick into his tight hole.

V gives a pitiful, stifled noise. Something between a whimper and sob. His eye burns as much as his ass, and his prick drags through the puddle of precum on the ground below him when Big Boss sinks into him.

His ass is on fire when Big Boss begins to fuck him rhythmically, fucks him so hard he can’t breathe or think. Fucks him so hard and mercilessly there are soon traces of blood on his cock too; in and out, in and out, always plunging the entire length in, his hips smacking against his sore, red ass cheeks.

As rough and artless as he fucks, he still hits his prostate every time. V’s hands aimlessly claw for purchase, finding none.

“Don’t, don’t, stop…” He wants to beg with a tiny voice, but it comes out as a moan and a plea for more, “Please -”

“Say it,” Big Boss barks, his flat hand crashing against his ass. V yelps, shivers pleasantly.

“ _Don’t stop,_ ” he begs now, correctly.

“More,” his boss demands, angling his hips, causing V to writhe and squirm with the next painful, blissful thrust. “Tell me how much you want it.”

He whines. His lower body feels numb, except for persistent, repetitive stabbing of Big Boss’s cock. “So much - it hurts so much… Boss, I’m sorry, I can’t… don’t stop…”

He doesn’t stop, and V keeps sputtering, incoherently. Feels like he’s floating. It takes less than five minutes like this, three, at most, and V arches and bucks against Big Boss, impales himself further.

“Cumming,” he gives him a heads-up, and Big Boss hits the side of his head, but it’s already too late. “No. This isn’t for you.”

“I’m sorry - I tried - I’m, oh, oh, Boss, your cock, ah, hah, _cumming_ ,” he groans, and he can’t stop himself from reaching climax, cock pulsing and spilling ribbons of cum all over the floor.

“I said no!”

Big Boss’s ire doesn’t change the facts, nor does his exasperated grunt; but at least his infuriated thrusts help to prolong V’s orgasm. “Don’t stop,” he gasps, still cumming, and Big Boss pumps his cock into body at a faster pace. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Thank… thank you, Boss…” V mutters, only know noticing that his face is now also littered with tears, though if its the pain or the relief or something else, he can’t say. Big Boss continues using his body until he empties his load into him, filling his ass up with cum, and V thanks him again, automatically. He drifts, is present for a minute, then he’s not. Then he’s back again when his subconscious registers Big Boss’s voice calling him back.

“V. Come back to me.”

He opens his eyes and he lies in bed with Big Boss above him, sitting up straight. He needs a few moments to process where he is and what has happened. His head is bandaged, his face clean. His gaze wanders to Big Boss’s right hand, also bandaged.

“I’m sorry,” he says, though he’s not sure what he’s sorry for. Or what he’s the most and the least sorry for.

“What for?”

“First of all because I asked - “

“I asked you first.”

“…Boss.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. To be honest, I’m surprised you kept struggling for that long. I almost believed it for a second.”

There’s a pause. V doesn’t ask the most obvious question, because the answer doesn’t matter.

“Boss,” he says, when nobody says anything for a while. “Sir.”

“What?”

“The most frequent, private dream I have about you,” V says solemnly, with a faint tinge of red to his cheeks, “Has you kissing me.”

Big Boss doesn’t try to hide the surprise on his face.

“How?” He asks, but then immediately adds, “No. I think I know how.”

Big Boss leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lifting his bandaged hand to the right side of V’s forehead, massaging his temple in small, comforting circles. Then he tilts his head and gently slides his tongue between V’s bruised lips, tasting himself while kissing him deeply, and there’s no more words.


	4. given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk guys I had a mighty and I mean a MIGHTY need for V topping BB… so…………… here it is in lieu of a proper sweet dreams update

He likes to watch, take note and memorize all those tiny details he’d never recognize on himself. The way his chest rises and falls, or his pulse thumps at his throat. The way sweat glistens on his forehead and his eyelid flutters when he’s having a dream.

Big Boss is not a peaceful sleeper. Neither is V, but he usually manages to tear himself away from the nightmares sooner than his lover does. It’s not always been like this, but he’s glad for how it is now. V presses himself flush against his broad back, squeezes his biceps, keeps the warmth trapped between the two of them. There’s not much else he can do short of waking him up: simply remaining at his side and keeping watch.

V begins to lean down with the intention to touch his lips to Big Boss’s ear, when he’s suddenly submerged in steely blue. Big Boss stares at him, lone eye open wide.

“What are you doing?” He asks, sounding a little raspy.

“Watching over you,” V answers. His hand drifts to Big Boss’s waist and he wraps one arm around him, supporting himself on the other, laying on his side. Big Boss turns another inch to better face the man in his back. Most of the tension dissipates.

“And you expect me to sleep like this,” he grouches, but his accusation is softer than usual. V knows it can be a double-edged sword, in terms of emotions - having someone watch every breath you take. You either feel safe or unnerved or a strange mix of both.

Big Boss turns his head away again, rests it on the pillow. His breathing is shallow. “Does it make you uncomfortable,” V asks, nuzzling against his neck.

“The way I look at you?”

“Making me horny is what it does,” Big Boss says, after a significant delay.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He brushes some of that hair aside with his nose so he can plant a trail of brief kisses from his nape up the side of his throat, to the line of his jaw. Big Boss accommodates him, rolling back his shoulders and reclining his head, making it easier for their mouths to meet. He parts his lips and V covers them with his own; it’s a chaste kiss at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to become sloppy and wet, tongues sliding over each other.

“Not helping,” Big Boss breathes hotly into his mouth, and tries to push V back - but he doesn’t budge, and his arm is locked securely around Big Boss’s waist, who just grunts. This would be the point where they change positions, so it’s a bit strange. For him, at least.

“V.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” V says, and before Big Boss can respond, he shoves two fingers rather than his tongue into his mouth, earning himself a scowl and a very notable graze of teeth.

“I know you’re tired. I’ll take care of it.” He manages to say it with conviction despite knowing that he’s stepping out of line - wouldn’t be surprised if Big Boss bit him and spanked his ass just to remind him what their respective roles are. What he does instead, after grumbling for a bit, is run his tongue over and between V’s digits, wetting them. Strings of saliva keep sticking to them even when he pulls out with a quiet pop.

“You got some nerve.”

That comment wrenches a wry smile from V, but Big Boss is giving no indication that he wants him to stop with whatever he’s got planned, so his saliva-covered fingers disappear between his ass cheeks, teasing the mostly untouched ring of muscle. It’s not the first time he’s doing this to another person, but the first time he’s doing it to Big Boss. It’s almost surreal that he’d even let him, and for a moment he wonders if he’s the one who’s still asleep and dreaming.

But Big Boss doesn’t make these kinda noises in his dreams, when he breaches the hole and carefully makes it stretch around his fingers, swallowing them. It’s a soft gasp that escapes him - one of surprise.

“You’re tense,” V says. “It’s no good if - “

“Please no running commentary,” Big Boss snaps. “Unless you want me to change my mind.”

“Alright.”

He does manage to relax on his own eventually, allowing V to sink his fingers deeper, up to the second knuckle. He spread them inside him, getting him used to the intrusion before pushing in the rest to start feeling for his prostate. It doesn’t take V long to find it - even like this Big Boss feels familiar, like coming home.

“…Ah.”

“Good?” V whispers, fingertip lightly nudging the sensitive bump of nerves, lips ghosting over his temple at the same time. A sneaks a glance at Big Boss’s cock, which is rapidly hardening and spurting precome with every other stroke against his prostate.

“It’s,” he pauses for a few seconds, swallowing, “Nice.”

“I love it when you hit me here,” V murmurs, fucking him slowly with his fingers. “With the entire length of your fat cock. Nice doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere.”

“I’m getting pretty far.”

V quickly removes his fingers, and pushes Big Boss face-first into the pillows by his shoulders. Big Boss grows stiff again, having a hard time remaining passive when he’s being handled like that, and rather than getting down to business V begins to knead his shoulders, to ease the tension out of them.

“Boss, it’s okay.” He rubs over some prominent scars, drags his knuckles down his spine. “It’s fine. It’s just me. Just you.”

V hears him snort into the fabric, and beneath his unusually gentle hands, he relaxes and deflates again. V breathes a relieved sigh himself and shift back, hands wandering along Big Boss’s body as he does, until his palms are cupping his ass cheeks. Big Boss makes another muffled noise and his thighs quiver when V buries his face in the cleft of his ass, pulling at the cheeks. He collects some saliva in his mouth and spits it onto the hole, looser than before, pushing it inside with his tongue. Then he starts to tease and fuck him with it; not so much for preparation, but simply for Big Boss’s pleasure.

He’s not squirming despite how awkward being in such a vulnerable position must be for him, anyway.

V does this for a while, eating Big Boss’s ass out and making sure it’s covered with his own spit, before he emerges again.

“I love your cock, but… you’ve got a nice ass too, Boss. Firm…” He squeezes his rear appreciatively, crawling on top of him, his hands roaming. Wandering up his flanks, stroking over his arms and shoulders.

“But I really love every part of you.” He bites softly into his shoulder, not even leaving a bruise. Big Boss is weirdly - not physically unresponsive, but -

“Gone silent, huh?” Given how he’s usually the talkative one… V flips him over onto his back, to get a better look at his face. It’s flushed.

It’s very attractive. He’s looking somewhere else, seems to be withdrawn into himself.

“Boss, look at me.”

To V’s surprise, he does.

_I know this is hard for you, exposing yourself… letting go… trusting someone enough to delegate control to them._

“I’m going to take care of you. I wanna… worship every inch of your body, inside and out.”

“V,” Big Boss says. It’s neither encouragement nor discouragement, and so V starts by going for his throat again. Brief, fleeting kisses, sucking skin between his teeth, grazing it on his way down to a nipple. Big Boss arches against his mouth when he lavishes it with attention, rolling the other one between his fingers, teasing it to stiffness. Calloused fingers run over scar tissue, a long one across his abs, another one on his hip.

He kisses them, too. He kisses every single scar he can find, and only then does he begin to tend to Big Boss’s cock and balls, licking along the hard shaft first. He alternates when swallowing them, and deepthroats him with little trouble. He’s really gotten pretty far.

Above him, Big Boss is panting, watching him - not suspiciously, but curiously. A first, low moan spills from his lips, and V smiles when he sits up straight, wiping over his mouth.

“The lube…?”

Big Boss blinks owlishly, then reaches for it, an almost empty bottle at the corner of their bed.

“Thank you, Boss.” What little lube remains V squeezes onto his own dick - fully erect already due to their prolonged foreplay, spreading it over the entire length until its slick. Big Boss still watches him, looks at him, aware of what’s happening and that he’s allowing it. He sinks back onto his elbows and pulls his knees up, spreading them for V to slip between.

“…I haven’t done this in a while,” Big Boss says, eyeing V’s cock as he lines it up with his asshole. “I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to -”

“It’ll be good,” V asserts, pushes in, and Big Boss down onto the mattress. It’s a smooth slide, and Big Boss much less tense than a few minutes ago, taking it all with ease, not even flinching.

“...Mgh.”

V can’t help but laugh.

“What?” Big Boss utters, as V tentatively rolls his hips, pulling out and pushing in again.

“It’s so easy for you… you’re amazing, Boss. Or maybe I’m just not enough.”

“You’re plenty.” He locks his feet at the small of his back, pushing V into the thrusts, his pace slow as he adjusts and angles his hips. “Ah - there. That’s it. Harder.”

“Pushy,” V complains, but obliges.

“You offered.”

After that, it’s mostly grunts and moans, and V’s steady rhythm; the slap of skin against skin and the mattress squealing. He relocates both his hands, healthy and mechanical, to Big Boss’s hips, pinning them in place as he fucks entire length into him, aiming for the sweet spot. Big Boss isn’t much of a panting, sweaty mess by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s certainly more vocal now than V has ever known him to be during sex.

He looks beautiful like this, too, eye closed and sweating and groaning. His leaking cock stands at attention, pointing at the ceiling and bouncing with every thrust.

“How is it?”

“…Nice,” Big Boss echoes his earlier answer.

V purses his lips. _Nice, huh…_

“Are you getting any closer?” Because he sure is - if it was Big Boss pounding him he would have spilled already, and fucking his tight ass is draining his stamina quite quickly, too.

“Uh… well - “

As if it’s simply something he’d forgotten to do before, Big Boss’s right hand reaches for his own cock in order to start jerking himself off, but before his fingers can touch it, V’s knocked his hand out of the way. Big Boss grunts and stares, perplexed.

_This alone just doesn’t do it for you, I know. Sorry -_

V slams his forearm against Big Boss’s throat, and bearing down on him like that, he begins to plow into his ass in earnest, fucking him in the same manner Big Boss usually fucks him, hard and ruthless. The other man’s eye goes wide, and he tears at the arm squeezing the air out of his lungs, writhing under the merciless assault of his prostate.

He almost wrestles V off, who stubbornly keeps himself on top of and inside of him, and just a split second before he’s about to tear himself away, he feels Big Boss’s hot, plentiful semen splatter against his abs and chest.

He lets go immediately, and Big Boss rolls to the side, sucks in air, and reflexively punches V right in the face and off the bed.

“A heads-up would’ve been nice!”

“Sorry,” V ruefully apologizes, and picks himself up. He wipes some blood from the corner of his mouth. He knows that a warning would have been pointless and done nothing for him. They’re not inherently gentle creatures; so all they can do is keep on looking after each other.

Big Boss knows this too. And so he doesn’t say, _don’t do that again._

He just grumbles, “Come back to bed,” and takes care of him in turn.


	5. bared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i heard u guys like bottom boss............................

“Looks good on you.”

It’s the compliment that catches V off-guard, not the fact that Big Boss - hair still damp and skin flushed from the shower they just took - has managed to sneak up on him. V looks into the bathroom mirror, adjusts the sleeves of Big Boss’s leather jacket. It smells distinctly like gunpowder and gasoline, and that’s what had drawn him towards it in the first place, he thinks. The flowery scent of soap doesn’t really suit him.

The supple leather feels nice on his naked skin. It fits him like it was custom-tailored to him specifically, but he knows the truth is that _he_ _’s_ the one custom-tailored to fit Big Boss.

“You think?”

“Mmm.”

It always feels strange to gaze into a mirror, but doubly so when Big Boss is standing next to him. They look almost the same, but the differences are much more obvious like this - he doubts anyone would mistake him for the original with the actual Big Boss in the same room. He has fewer scars, slightly more muscle. No shrapnel, two arms. Misses an inch in height, only reaching up to V’s eye level.

Bigger, girthier cock, even flaccid.

Big Boss presses up against him, runs his fingers over the lapel of his jacket. He leans in, until his lips barely touch his neck, then inhales through his nose. Deeply.

They haven’t fucked in the shower. That’s also while neither of them has bothered with getting dressed. V has somewhat of an idea why: it’s been a long day and an even longer ride to this hideout, so he doesn’t expect him to have the energy left to fuck him the way they usually preferred. Big Boss isn’t the kind of man who half-asses things, and for him, it’s a luxury to be able to shut down at all. So he does just that, sometimes.

“I was wondering if you were up for a ride,” he drawls, stretching himself up to better reach his ear. A finger traces the defined lines of his abs, and V can feel his dick press provocatively against his own thigh. V shifts just enough to slot against him more comfortably, and his answers is non-verbal: he licks over Big Boss’s lips and then dives between them, indulging in a long, slow kiss. He wraps his arms possessively around his waist, and Big Boss does the same, groping his double’s ass firmly.

V appreciates Big Boss’s mellow moods for how rare they are. He’s not as rigid then, not as defensive. Doesn’t bark orders at V with every breath he takes, and his hands don’t hurt as much. He’s felt a little self-conscious the first few times Big Boss had granted him autonomy during sex, loosening the figurative collar around his neck, but by now he’s grown confident enough. Partly because he knows Big Boss genuinely trusts him, and that he might possibly be the only one being given that kind of trust.

It’s a delicate thing, but he doesn’t kiss him delicately. It’s rough - hungry, with lots of teeth and little air, just how Big Boss likes it. He presses his thumb into his throat and tilts his head a little more, deepens it. Leads but doesn’t overpower him. He separates only when he himself needs to breathe, keeping their mouths close.

“Bed then,” he says. “You wanna lie down.”

One of Big Boss’s hands slips into his cleft, teases his dry hole. He smirks.

“Sounds good to me.”

He removes himself from V, easily wiggling out of his lax grasp. V considers shrugging out of the jacket as he watches Big Boss wander over to the adjacent room, but decides against it and follows him instead. His own heart starts to beat faster in his throat when Big Boss does exactly what he suggested: he sits down on the edge of the bed, then lays back, sprawling out on the sheets like a lion in the sun. Completely bared, and yet so cocksure of himself because he’s still in control. He looks at V expectantly when he spits into his palm and then lazily fists his own cock, stroking it to life.

A sudden, intrusive thought -

_If I took it away?_

“Come here,” Big Boss says, beckoning him closer, and of course V’s body acts accordingly. He climbs onto the bed, going straight for Big Boss’s growing dick and swallowing it.

Big Boss props himself up on one elbow. “There you go,” he sighs, brushing some hair out of V’s eyes to watch his face when he begins to rhythmically bob his head, sucking him off routinely. V looks back at him, meeting his heated stare.

_If I took it away?_

V strokes along his inner thighs affectionately, spreading them as he begins to deepthroat him in regular intervals, drooling over his cock in the process. It elicits a feeble moan from Big Boss, who relaxes even more, sinking back into the pillows and draping an arm over his eyes.

_What would I see?_

V gives his shaft one last, long lick, then kisses the tip. It’s fully engorged by now. Huge and throbbing with need. Big Boss doesn’t move even when V’s weight momentarily leaves the bed, probably thinking that he’s getting the lube, slicking himself up. What he does ultimately pull out from the box under their bed is the red hemp rope Big Boss has often enough used on him.

“V,” Big Boss grunts, impatient, when he’s flipped onto his stomach, and V decorates his shoulders with small, affectionate bites. He runs his good hand over his biceps and the expanse of his back. “I don’t need a massage. Just get on with it.”

“Okay,” V says, slips the rope underneath his neck, pulls and twists his arm back.

What follows is a reflexive struggle: strike first, ask later. Big Boss tries to elbow V from his current position, but the sudden obstruction in his air supply is too sudden, too distracting. V counters him easily and manages to wrap the rope around his throat two times, pulling it taut, then doing the same with his first arm. He grabs the other one when Big Boss attempts to roll over, pinning him back onto the squealing mattress. He hastily binds his wrists together, rope cutting deep into the skin. Big Boss continues  to thrash, but he has little to no leverage like this.

“The more you struggle,” V pants out while he ties some knots, “The harder it’ll become to breathe. You know this.”

It’s Big Boss’s favorite type of bondage, and V’s well acquainted with it by now. His hands are restrained, the rope running up to his neck, wrapped snugly around it like a noose. He lays still after a while, wheezing and swallowing hard, making it much easier for V to finish up. It’s not perfect, but it does the job.

Big Boss glares at him, and V doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so _enraged_. It’s kind of scary, but exciting at the same time.

“You wanna play this kind of game? You’ll lose,” he scoffs. V finds it interesting how he doesn’t tell him to stop, because he would - no questions asked.

“Meaning I shouldn’t even try?” V says with an arched eyebrow. He leans down to press a kiss to Big Boss’s temple. “Aren’t you the one who always goes on about how one should never give up, even if success is improbable?”

Big Boss has no good retort to offer, and grumbles something into the pillow.

V gently turns him over onto his back. “You know what I want.”

Big Boss kicks him in the face, almost breaking his nose. V’s prosthetic catches his ankle, fist tightening around it painfully. Big Boss growls and doesn’t attempt to kick him a second time.

“I won’t,” he snarls. “Forget it.”

“I see,” says V, and slaps his face so hard and suddenly with his prosthesis that Big Boss’s eye goes wide, his cheek soon turning an ugly shade of red that rivals the crimson of his hand.

“How _fucking_ d-”

“Shut up,” V says evenly, and does it again. Harder. Hard enough to stun Big Boss into bewildered silence, but his scowl speaks volumes.

“You _never_ shut up, Boss. I wonder why. Do they make you feel more in control, your words?”

Before Big Boss can snap a response, V covers his mouth with his flat cold palm, the same one he’d struck him with. Without letting go, he fishes something else out of the box.

A ballgag. That one’s also seen plenty of use; probably still tastes of V’s spit.

“I take them away. Until you can say what I want you to say.”

He forces the gag into Big Boss’s mouth and behind his teeth, prying them open. He spits and snarls, tries to toss his head, but it’s no use. V fastens it behind his head, securing it. Big Boss’s nostrils flare, breathing erratically. Trying to control his own anger, caged in like this. Made unable to lash out.

“You listen to me now,” V says, patting Big Boss’s sore cheek affectionately. The other man jerks his head around. He doesn’t like the taste of his own medicine.

“I’ll take care of you.”

V is fully aware that the beating he’ll receive after this will be something else, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be able to take it. If he’s honest with himself, he’s even looking forward to it. V kisses his brow, tasting the sheen of sweat that’s coating his entire body. He tastes it on his throat next, when he bares his throat and licks along his pulse, biting into and sucking on it hard enough to leave a bruise. He can feel the rumble of a low groan beneath the skin.

“Mine,” he rasps into his ear, splaying his fingers over one of his pectorals, before they find the nipple, dark and already erect. He rolls it between his digits, pinching and twisting, but Big Boss’s reaction is almost non-existent. He shifts only subtly, looking somewhere else.

V knows he’s trying to withdraw into himself, making himself go numb. Like he’s been taught. V smiles fondly at him and reaches for the zippo on the bedside table. Flicks it a few times with his good hand until the flame ignites, letting a finger made of metal hover over it for ten, twenty seconds.

And presses it on his nipple.

Big Boss cries out behind his gag, spit flying from his mouth. His attention snaps back to V, and he hits the side of his body with his foot. He doesn’t budge, and neither does his hand.

“You stay here,” V says, and Big Boss rolls his eye, body convulsing. V finally removes his prosthetic, and gets the lube. Big Boss swings his legs around again and aims for his head when he registers as much, doing his fucking worst.

Being a pain in the ass, to avoid any pain in _his_ ass. V laughs and fights him off.

“Isn’t it funny,” he remarks, “How you made sure to prepare yourself for these kinda situations? You got an entire arsenal down here.”

Reaching down, he produces a long, black metal bar, cuffs attached to either end of it. Big Boss used it on him only once when he’d been unusually squirmy - fucking him with a loaded gun without telling him whether or not the safety had been on. That’s reason enough to be somewhat apprehensive, he thinks.

He collects both of Big Boss’s ankles with some effort - he’s still being insufferable - and clicks the cuffs shut around them, efficiently keeping his legs spread that way. Contrary to his expectations Big Boss doesn’t try to give him a concussion with the bar or break his neck with it, so he probably still likes him enough to not want to kill him over this. V’s prosthetic grabs the bar, presses it down towards Big Boss’s chest with his own weight.

Exposing his ass and making it easily accessible.

“I don’t think I ever fought this much, though,” V muses, popping the cap off the bottle of lube.

“Surrendering is against your nature, so you make me do it. It’s not who you are. Not anymore.”

He squirts a generous amount of cool lube right onto Big Boss’s asshole, shoving and massaging it into him with wet, vulgar noises. He penetrates deeper and wiggles his fingers inside him, feeling him clench around them in a weak attempt to push them out. V rams them back in harder, making his back arch off the mattress and his cock spurt a good helping of clear precum. It’s not just V betraying him - his own body, too.

“I open you up.”

V adds his ring finger, making it three. He fucks them in and out of him until the canal’s slick enough, and his muscles loose. V glances at his face, contorted with saliva flowing from the corners of his mouth. His skin looks chafed where the rope is. Then he pulls out, spits on Big Boss’s cock and pumps it a few times, playing a bit with his balls right after.

“It’s about your size, isn’t it?” V asks. Big Boss’s gaze wanders over to him, and he blinks slowly. “…No, it’s slightly bigger. The vibe you frequently use on me.”

Big Boss snorts, averts his gaze again. V rummages for it, not letting go of the spreader bar as he does so.

“Look at it,” V says. He doesn’t.

“ _Look_ ,” he says again, in a more commanding tone, and then he does. It’s big and black, ten inches in length, and fairly fat. Coated in rubber, with a remote attached to it.

“I’ll stick it in you until you’re about to cum,” he says. “But I won’t let you. I’ll stop, and start again. And again, until you let go -”

He points at his own head. “ - here.”

Big Boss narrows his eye at him, looking like he’s dying to spit something vicious at him. But his remaining dignity won’t let him try and speak with the fucking gag in his mouth. It doesn’t bother V either way, pressing the head of the huge vibe against his slicked up hole. He starts to push inside, making him stretch around the girth. Big Boss holds his breath, craning his neck briefly before he falls back onto the bed, his spine curving as he attempts to push off the mattress and to the side.

V keeps him down, shoves the whole thing in, down to the base. Big Boss’s breathing resumes, more ragged, but aside from a stifled croak he doesn’t make a sound.

V pauses, runs a finger gingerly over the red ring of strained muscle, a little in awe.

“Bet you could easily take double this size, too,” he says, twisting the vibe inside him. V sees his toes curl out of the corner of his eye, his legs quivering subtly, almost unnoticable.

“You’re really something else.”

He takes the remote and turns it to the highest setting, resulting in a constant, muffled buzzing sound. Big Boss’s body jolts briefly, and his breath catches in his throat. V hears him swallow, sees him screw his eye shut. V lowers himself down, forms a fist around the base of Big Boss’s twitching cock, and swallows him again, continuing where he left off earlier. The vibrations reach all the way up to his mouth, and he adds to them, humming as he services his cock, lavishing it with attention and a hint of teeth, the way Big Boss likes it.

To his credit, it does take quite a while until V notes the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. His cock starts to throb heavily in his mouth, leaking more than usual, his balls and abs tensing up. He immediately raises his head, his cock sliding out, and turns the vibe off.

He hears Big Boss groan, just a tad distressed, arched body collapsing in on itself. V doesn’t comment on it, and flicks his tongue idly against his swollen cockhead, waiting for a minute or two until his pulse calms down somewhat.

Then he does it again, as he’d said. Edging him through four, five cycles, his unintelligible complaints gradually increasing in intensity, the torture wearing him down bit for bit. Never completely; it’s like chipping away at granite, and he knows that Big Boss is a stubborn bastard. If this was a life or death situation, he could endure it for hours, perhaps days.

But it’s not, and so V stops after the sixth cycle, pulling the vibe out and placing it aside. He crawls between his forcefully spread thighs, unconcerned about the metal bar in his back. Big Boss’s legs probably have a little too much wobble at this point, not making for effective weapons.

V slaps his cheek again, prompting him to open his eye, glazed over. He looks like a mess; hair disheveled, too much spit and sweat. V turns his head so he can remove the gag.

Big Boss sharply sucks in air, and then he spits V right in the face with unprecedented scorn. He starts to laugh quietly as V wipes the clump of saliva from his cheek and stares at his fingers, sounding kind of - unhinged.

He cranes his head and whispers a deceptively soft _Fuck you_ into V’s ear, flashing his teeth in a wolfish grin when sinks back down again, already considering himself the winner of this.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” V says coldly, fixating him with an equally icy stare.

“It’s all you’ll _get_ to hear. Too bad.”

Something snaps, then clicks into place. V’s prosthetic darts for Big Boss’s throat, and he bears down on it with all of his upper body weight.

“It’s so hard for you, letting go,” he grates, voice reaching Big Boss’s depths. “We both know why. She instilled you with this fear. It’s so deeply lodged inside of you.”

He holds Big Boss’s gaze, whose lips are pressed into a thin line, his breathing shallow.

“She put you through this - and things much worse. Everything you do to me she did to you first. She never wanted you to talk. Not about yourself, and not about how much it hurt. About how much you wanted it to stop. But it never does, Jack. It never does.”

Big Boss’s expression melts into dull shock, eye widening.

“V,” he just says, voice hoarse.

“She taught you to accept it as a part of yourself, the pain. It’s who you are, your reminder that you’re still alive at all. Because you can’t feel anything else anymore - you reject a life outside of death. She wouldn’t have it.”

“V - “

“That’s why you need to be in control of your own suffering, and the suffering of others. Make it so that it never stops, that they can’t run away from it. From you. You’re so afraid - “

“Don’t -”

“- of being left to die alone.”

“ _Please_ ,” Big Boss chokes out, “Stop. Stop talking. Just...”

V stops. Blinks. Softens. His steel hand releases Big Boss’s throat, places itself on his bruised cheek instead, cooling it. He can’t feel how wet it is, but sees how moist Big Boss’s eye is when he opens it again, unable to look at him.

“…It’s a scary place, isn’t it,” he says, after a minute. His own heart sinks and hurts. “Your head.”

Big Boss doesn’t answer. He opens his mouth when V leans down to kiss him, tenderly sliding his tongue over his, lips melding together. V presses his own bristled cheek against his when they part, listens to his breath and heartbeat for a while, waiting for them calm down.

“…Please fuck me,” Big Boss eventually murmurs, chest heaving. Cock still heavy between his legs. “I can’t stand it. Finish it. Me.” He swallows down the saliva together with his pride. “Please,” he adds again, defeated.

V threads his fingers through his hair, slicks it back. Kisses his temple. Then he reaches down to take his own erect cock into his hand.

“Okay.”

 _That'_ _s what I wanted to hear._

V lines his dick up with his asshole and slams it right in, slapping loudly against his ass, making Big Boss gasp and shiver when V immediately begins to jackhammer his cock into him in a hard, unforgiving rhythm that’s meant to push Big Boss over the edge, and fast. He moans feebly in response, locking gazes with V when he drags his hands down his sides, steadying his waist.

“Don’t stop this time… please,” another shameless plea spills from his mouth.

“I won’t,” V promises, fucks him harder, and is rewarded with possibly the most gorgeous, needy expression he’s ever seen, like his partner wouldn’t survive another interruption.

He’s a little jealous that Big Boss gets to see it so often.

“Hah, ah… coming, _fuck,_ nnn - !” Big Boss groans, tossing his head to the side when he starts to come explosively against V’s stomach, and V dips down to catch his lips. Big Boss moans into his mouth, kisses him messily. “Keep going,” he wheezes inbetween, although he barely has any air to spare for words. “Keep going, keep going, keep going - “

“Gonna cum inside,” V warns, receives another breathy _please_ in response, and Big Boss violently clamping down on his cock, coaxing it out, his own bouncing dick still spurting long, hot ribbons of cum.

“Yours,” Big Boss says, followed by a sensual lick over and between V’s lips, and that does him in. He comes with a stifled, exultant cry himself, tapering off into a low feral growl, pumping his seed into Big Boss’s ass with every thrust.

“ _Boss_ _…!_ ”

They ride out their orgasms together, until Big Boss slumps and V nearly collapses on top of him, air rushing out of their lungs. His hips slow down until he grinds to a halt, his cock slipping out of the other man, some of his cum immediately trickling out of asshole.

Big Boss looks absolutely done and thoroughly fucked, and V smiles. Sighs as he climbs off him and lazily wipes a hand over his own stomach, cum sticking to it.

He undoes Big Boss’s bindings. Spreader bar first, then the rope when he rolls him to his side, having left plenty of marks and bruises. He fully expects Big Boss to punch him the moment he can move his hands, but he… doesn’t, and for a moment V thinks he’s actually fucked him unconscious.

He realizes this is not the case when he quickly shimmies out of the jacket and presses up against his back to spoon him, because Big Boss reaches back to grab his arm and pull it over his own waist like a blanket.

“…You’re not mad,” V wonders, frowning.

“I’m mad,” Big Boss says.

“I’m livid, actually.”

“…But?”

“Also tired.”

“Oh.”

So his own punishment is just being delayed, not forgotten. He nuzzles against Big Boss's neck, and a comfortable silence lingers before Big Boss speaks up again.

“One question,” he says. “Why did you do that.”

V thinks for a moment, then shrugs.

“Thought you needed it.”

“…I see."

He says nothing else for the rest of the night, but V feels him lacing their fingers together shortly before he falls asleep, and pulls his worn body closer in response.


	6. tricked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY JUST WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING NICER BETWEEN ALL THE TORTURE AND MINDFUCK IN SWEET DREAMS SORRY so here’s some more cheeky V and power bottom BB
> 
> Excuse the beginning btw I was halfway tempted to make this a sad outer heaven V dies fic but then I said fuck it and just went for happy dicks cause these boys deserve it

 

There’s something poetic, he thinks, the way they effortlessly mesh with each other, like rhymes in a stanza, telling the same story. Big Boss almost always leads, dictating the metre, and V follows, absorbing his words and giving a matching reply; echoing his pace, his melody.

With both voice, and body.

Fucking feels as natural as fighting when he’s with him, on their infrequent clandestine meetings, like there’s no clear distinction between the two. V bares himself to him whenever they are together, body and heart spread open to receive him, and Big Boss takes him with the unbridled greed of a man who’s been starved of emotional intimacy for decades. He shows him sides of himself he doesn’t show to anyone else, tells him things he’s never told anyone else, because he’s never felt safe with anyone else.

And V knows why: because sooner or later, they end up betraying him. Like The Boss had, who’d known him better than anyone else.

 _But you won_ _’t._

Of course he wouldn’t. They were one and the same, and V had been made to fill the void The Boss had left, bound to him with fiery, skin-scorching chains, in life and in death.

 _I_ _’m yours and there’s no single force in the world that can take me away from you._

_Not even you._

_***_

He knows he really shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s not like that knowledge had ever stopped Big Boss from indulging in his vices.

The morning starts innocently enough: V’s up early, so he dresses and goes to prepare the breakfast (which consists of fried leftover snake and half a ration) after checking the perimeter. They usually spend the night in abandoned outposts that haven’t shown any signs of human activity in a while - PF, civilian or others - and so all he finds, unsurprisingly, are some crows and wild goats, the latter of which he’s tempted to hunt down so they have a little something extra to snack on. But Big Boss doesn’t make it a habit to linger, and V has to get back to Mother Base himself; there’s only so much time he can spend on collecting herbs before it becomes suspicious and either Ocelot or Kaz decide to give him a call.

He checks the tank level and tires of Big Boss’s bike, then returns to their house, somewhat surprised that his partner is apparently still sleeping. That’s either a really good or a really bad sign, since he’s really not the type to oversleep - and so V decides to check up on him, and finds him in bed as expected, snoring quietly, entirely unbothered by the African morning sun shining brightly onto his face.

Well, that’s a first. The sight makes him smile - he looks like a more innocent version of himself like that, and it’s hard to imagine that he’s killed a man in cold blood just the day before. V enters the small room, sits down at the edge of the cot, creaking loudly under his weight. Even that doesn’t manage to wake up Big Boss, and the only explanation V has for that is that he must feel really - _really_ … safe. Not haunted by nightmares either, going by the peaceful look on his face.

V idly brushes aside some strands of hair falling wildly over his forehead, though it doesn’t take long for his gaze to wander lower, running over the entirety of Big Boss’s naked, uncovered form - even at night it’s too hot to sleep comfortably with clothes and a blanket, and considering that they had spent most of their time grinding frantically against each other…

“Mmnn,” Big Boss mumbles, stirring slightly and turning, and V gets a better look at his crotch.

“Having a nice dream, Boss?” V says with a soft chuckle, when he sees the semi-hard on Big Boss is sporting, and the fresh stain on the mattress. Sex dreams instead of nightmares sure is an improvement, he likes to think.

“I hope it’s about me,” he whispers into Big Boss’s ear, leaning down. Somehow he’s still not opening his eyes, and encouraged by that V continues, lewdly, “It better be about me. I’m not sure I could tolerate anyone else - “

He knows he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t help himself - and it’s going to be fucking _months_ until they can get together again, and that’s a pretty long time to go without some kind of release.

And surely Big Boss won’t object to waking up to V sucking his cock. The mattress creaks again when V shifts, pushing apart Big Boss thighs. He gets to work quickly, the mere sight of the other man’s growing cock enough to incite his own arousal. His fist forms a ring around the base of his dick, then he wraps his own lips around the swollen, leaking glans, bobbing his head eagerly. Down, and up again, swallowing luxuriously around his thick girth, which is hardening quickly in his mouth.

“Does anyone else blow you like this?” V murmurs, his wet lips placing kisses along the entire shaft. His tongue darts out to lick along the pulsing vein near the ridge, and then he pokes its tip into his cockslit, teasing it and coaxing out more drops of precum. He hears Big Boss sigh, feels his waist tremble, and his reactions only serve to spur V on, taking him into his mouth again, and into his relaxed throat - deeper still until his nose is buried in Big Boss’s pubic hair, and like that he remains, three, five, ten seconds.

“Haaah,” he breathes when he emerges again, examining his handiwork - Big Boss’s cock is huge and hard as granite, and generously covered with a mix of pre and spit.

But his eyes are still closed, and Big Boss’s head lolls to the side. V purses his lips. _Did last night wear him out that much, or what_ _…_

 _Well_ , he thinks, looking at Big Boss’s cock again and considering the tightness of his own pants. He’s made his bed and now he has to lie in it - if that didn’t wake him up, he’s pretty sure a little ride won’t disturb his peace too much, either. V makes quick work of his pants, and straddles Big Boss appropriately to fuck himself on his cock. He steadies his erection with one hand, pulls at his own ass cheek with the other when he lowers himself down, impales himself; Big Boss’s fat, wet cock stretching his asshole.

“Mm, Boss,” he says, voice thick with desire and need, and pushes his own hips down until he’s fully sheathed. He really, really shouldn’t be doing this - he blames Big Boss’s sadistic tendencies for this, too, the fact that he likes to tease him until he starts to beg.

But right now he doesn’t have to beg, and he can set the pace himself. V places his hands on Big Boss’s abs, starts to grind, immediately finds the right angle so that the dick drags along his prostate with every determined roll of his hips.

“Ah…aahh… Boss… Boss, I’m - ”

_\- not even sorry._

Big Boss lies still beneath him, while V urgently bounces on his lap, grunting every now and then, his brows drawn together. _You really must be having a nice dream if you like it better than the real thing_ , V thinks, slightly chagrined, but it doesn’t discourage him from riding Big Boss’s cock like his own life depended on it.

“Gonna cum,” he hisses with his eyes screwed shut, and he ruts more frantically, digs his nails into Big Boss’s abs, leaving scratch marks. “ _Soon_ \- !”

“You know, I didn’t think you would actually go that far.”

V freezes immediately, feels his heart leap to his throat, and rips his eyes open.

“Ah - “ He’s absurdly aware of the sweat running down his temple, and the entire length of his spine, catching in his ass crack. His hole is stuffed full of cock still, and its owner is staring at him with an expression that’s impossible to read.

“It’s very interesting, to say the least.”

“You tricked m— _hnngh!_ ” V receives one vicious upwards thrust that catapults him right off Big Boss’s lap, and onto the ground. They both know what’s gonna happen now, and V would be lying if he said that didn’t excite him on its own.

“Have some self-control, V,” Big Boss chides him, standing up - when V tries to follow suit, he shoots him a glare, and that’s enough to keep him where he is. He grins like a wolf, flashing his teeth.

“Or do I have to teach you what that means, first?”

 

***

 

It’s way past Big Boss’s usual departure time, and at this point V has figured that the events this morning had been part of a — well, not a very elaborate scheme, but one of Big Boss’s schemes anyway. The man’s a sadist in bed, and undeniably dominant, and V had found himself easily able to accommodate his preferences right from the start; in fact, they matched his own. So he’s really not as vexed as he might appear, even handcuffed to the bedpost, even with Big Boss mistreating his ass, using his belt as an impromptu whip.

“Hrrggh - is this really fucking - necessary!!” He yells, broken up by shrieks each time Big Boss’s belt smacks mercilessly against his rear. His knees hurt from sitting on the concrete ground for 20 minutes now, forced to present his bare ass to him so he can spank it like he’s been a particularly naughty child.

“Of course,” Big Boss says nonchalantly, and his belt cracks against the sensitive flesh again, causing V to jump.

“How else will you learn?”

He gets another slap, and then there’s a break, finally. V heaves a long sigh, his cuffs rattling when his hands travel downwards along the post to brace himself against the ground instead. The tears at the corners of his eyes finally spill over, running down his chin. Big Boss is suddenly crouched down beside him, his hand at V’s neck. He massages it gently, and V looks up at him.

“How are you doing?” Big Boss asks.

“…I’m fine,” V replies. “You know I can take more. Keep going.”

“Good boy.”

The next whiplash is hard enough to make V scream, and the crows on the roof scatter.

 

***

 

He’s really not sure how he’s going to explain to Kaz and Ocelot that he’d rather avoid sitting and laying down on his back for the next few weeks. Not like that stops Big Boss from forcing him to lay down anyway, cuffing him to the headboard instead. He winces, shifting around, trying to relieve some of the pain - but Big Boss only adds to it when he sits down on his chest, commanding his attention. His heart flutters in his chest.

“Are you going to do it again, without my permission?”

“…No sir,” V says, with a delay that earns him a slap in the face. He grunts.

“You’re not even sorry, are you?”

“I’m very sorry, sir.”

Big Boss scoffs.

“Well, in that case. I think it’s only fair that I get to use you in the same manner, don’t you agree?”

He winces again, considering the state of his ass - usually that kind of promise would make him rejoice but this time -

“Not like that,” Big Boss says, as if he’s read his thoughts, and his hand disappears behind his back, fingers curling around V’s soft cock, stroking it back up.

“Oh,” V says.

That’s another first. There’s a warm pulse in his dick, and it grows hard rapidly.

Big Boss’s weight leaves his chest then, relocates to his thighs instead. He collects saliva in his mouth and spits onto V’s cock, once, twice, smearing it along the shaft, slicking it up - the noises are obscene. V swallows, searching for Big Boss’s gaze, holding onto it.

“I’m not sure if it’s gonna be enough to satisfy me,” Big Boss comments, lazily pumping his dick, “But it’ll do.”

A well-aimed, imaginary fist of shame punches into V’s gut. “Boss, don’t be mea—”

The next clump of saliva hits V’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Big Boss says, and V shuts up. “You’re just a cock now.”

_Just a cock._

Big Boss lifts his hips, aligns the cock with his own muscular ass, then shoves his hips down without an ounce of hesitation, or any signs of strain on his part - V moans loudly when he feels himself entering his warm canal, but Big Boss doesn’t even do so much as flinch. He clenches down around the girth, and holding onto V’s waist he begins to ride him routinely with undulating motions; V’s whole cock sliding in and out of his tight, unused asshole.

“Boss - oh my _god_ , Boss,” he sputters, intently watching Big Boss move gracefully on top of him, riding him like a goddamn horse, like he’s done nothing else his entire life, and he still manages to look so sovereign doing it. His ass is on fire with all the friction from the mattress and Big Boss’s weight pinning him down, but his cock feels fucking fantastic.

“If you come inside my ass,” Big Boss warns him, raking his nails along his flanks, “I’m going to have you suck it out. Every single drop.”

He’s not sure if that’s a threat or a promise, really.

Big Boss does his best to torture V, and before long he’s a panting, sweating mess, moving his hips in tandem with Big Boss, pushing up when he’s pushing down, and it becomes one of their little fights that way - though V’s clearly on the losing side, as always. Big Boss’s weight on his lap is just too much - his tight ass swallowing his cock time and again - the way he looks at him, like a king at his servant. V can’t tear his gaze away, drinking in his entire appearance, the hair sticking to his forehead and the sweat-slick, scarred skin, the taut muscles moving underneath.

“You’re so hot,” V whispers, sounding breathy, hoarse, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“I know,” Big Boss says, with a shit-eating grin, and shoves his fingers into V’s mouth. V licks and laps at them obediently, short on breath.

Big Boss begins to fist his bouncing cock with the other hand. He withdraws his wet fingers from V’s mouth and circles his own dark, erect nipple with it, before he starts to rub at it, humming. Indulging himself. He slams his hips down more ferociously, and as much as V wants to heed his his warning, he just can’t. He doesn’t have that kind of self-control.

“Bossss _sss_ — !”

  _Too much._

With a soundless groan, he comes explosively inside his Boss’s ass, pumping it full of his cum, his whole body frayed with tension. Big Boss doesn’t stop, not immediately. Only when V deflates, gasping for air, does he lift his hips again and allow his spent cock to slip out of him. It’s followed by by trails of cum running down the insides of Big Boss’s strong thighs.

“Look at it,” Big Boss says dourly, and V tiredly opens his eyes again, tries to focus on his own mess. “Do you think I was kidding?”

“I’m… sorry, I — !”

He doesn’t get to finish his insincere apology, because suddenly Big Boss is sitting on his face, stuffing it full of his ass, depriving him of both his sight and the ability to properly breathe.

“Mmnngh!!!”

“Lick,” Big Boss commands harshly, grinding his ass against his face. “Suck. Eat my ass out, you dumb bitch.”

V shudders, giving a stifled moan - if he’s starting to insult now, he must be really into it, which is a compliment on its own. He gives a noise of assent and tries to turn his head just enough so his tongue can reach and poke into Big Boss’s gaping, drenched asshole, licking over and into it. The taste of his own cum isn’t as bad as he’s expected, though he’s fairly sure it’s different from Big Boss’s.

V laps and swallows, and Big Boss adjusts his position, allowing V to cover his hole with his mouth to suck, eagerly, dedicated to get every drop of his own release out of his ass.

“Like that. This is what happens when you can’t keep yourself under control. Do you understand?”

“Ye—fhh, mnn, mmh,” V gives a muffled, unintelligible reply, squeezed out between licks along Big Boss thighs, trying to catch every single drop.

“Good boy.”

It takes minutes until Big Boss is satisfied with him, and only then does he move back to sit on his chest again. Finally able to breathe freely again, V greedily sucks in as much air as possible, traces of cum sticking to his facial hair, his eyes rolled back in his head. There’s that light-headed feeling.

“Still with me?” Big Boss asks, lightly patting his cheek, and V blinks, refocuses.

“Yeah, yeah,” V lilts, sounding a little drunk. “Not for much longer."

Big Boss gives a mellow, good-hearted chuckle. “Let’s see about that. Open your mouth for me.”

He opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue, and Big Boss places his still engorged, dripping cock on top of it.

Yeah, he’ll be gone in a second. Big Boss reaches for V’s handcuffed wrists, holding onto them as he angles his hips, and slams his cock down his throat. V begins to thrash and gag violently while Big Boss forcibly fucks his esophagus, but it takes less than a minute for him to not really feel anything but elevating joy anymore, and Big Boss’s warm, ample semen pouring into his stomach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he returns it’s dark again outside, and the first time they’ve spent two nights in a row together - while neither of them is a in a coma, that is. He’s in bed, with Big Boss flush against his back. He thinks he’s asleep but when he stirs, his lover says, “Welcome back.”

“Mn,” V hums, pressing up against him. A strong arm is wound around his waist, and his hand goes looking for it.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Of course. I’m just… a lot more sore than I’d expected to be.”

Big Boss chuckles.

“You’ll come up with something.”

“Is this alright?” V asks, melting into Big Boss’s embrace. “Being gone for that long, I mean.”

“Does it matter?” Big Boss counters. “I’m sure you didn’t ask yourself that question when you touched me this morning.”

“…You were tempting me.”

“And you took the opportunity. Don’t worry about it. People can make do without us for a little while.”

V makes a noise that indicates doubt, but he doesn’t argue. What he does instead is turning his head and parting his lips when he feels Big Boss’s bristled cheek against his own, inviting him into his mouth for a slow, lazy kiss. Sometimes he asks himself how crazy he would sound if he told Big Boss: let’s just stay here forever.

“Hey,” he asks after a couple minutes of silence. “So what were you dreaming about? … You did have a dream, right?”

“Want me to show you?” Big Boss bites into his shoulder, softly. “I guess you’ll have to wait until next time for that.”

V huffs indignantly when Big Boss stops. His weight leaves the cot, and he goes to prepare some fried leftover snake and half a ration.

 

 


	7. stirred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually a gift fic for a friend so i put very specific kinks into it :)
> 
> bbv main, with minor bbvoce, bbkaz and vkaz, kaz is also the poor fucker who has to watch

“What the fuck is this?! You can’t be serious - !”

When V opens his eyes, he watches himself being confronted by Kaz, in his office. No, not himself - it’s the other Big Boss, the real one. The narrator. Ishmael.

He’s returned to provide them with directions after all these years of Diamond Dogs operating independently. Outer Heaven’s almost complete, so it’s only logical for him to reclaim what is rightfully his; what they’ve built for his sake. For the resurgence of the original.

 _Nice work_ , he’d said casually, _I_ _’ll take it from here_ , and then -

And then Kaz had to make a scene, rather than accept what Ocelot had already warned him about. He attempts to strike at Big Boss with his crutch, one vicious blow to the head, but Ocelot’s the first one to jump between them, shove Kaz back before he can so much as touch Big Boss, and twist his only remaining wrist so hard that the crutch clatters to the ground.

“Let go - !”

“I told you this would happen,” he sighs in Big Boss’s direction. “He’s grown attached.”

Kaz snorts and slams his weight against Ocelot’s chest; almost losing his balance and falling when Ocelot releases him. His aviators tumble from his nose, and V can see the unbridled fury in his milky white eyes. He’s choking on his own anger, can’t even find the words to express it properly.

“The sheer - audacity - just like you, isn’t it! You can’t just waltz in here like you fucking own the place, you - “

“Obviously I can,” Big Boss says impassively, lighting himself a cigar.

“ _I_ built this!!” Kaz screams, infuriated, and both Big Boss and Ocelot grimace because his voice hurts in the ears. Kaz picks up his crutch, points it at V.. “Together with _him_. You had to run off like a fucking coward, intentionally used us as decoys, had us do your dirty work on top of that. We’re not taking any orders from you anymore. You can go straight to hell where you belong, bastard.”

Big Boss calmly puffs on his cigar, quirks an eyebrow at him and remains quiet, as if to say, _Are you done?_

Kaz huffs, there’s not much he can do by himself, especially not with Ocelot in the same room, so he turns towards V: “Snake.”

“What?”

“Kill him. That’s an order. We’ve both already lost so much because of him, and if anyone can do it - “

V doesn’t move. Neither do Ocelot or Big Boss, for that matter, already aware that nothing to that effect will happen.

“Kaz,” Big Boss intones, and Kaz reflexively snarls at him like a rabid dog, at the presumed intimacy that comes with being called that. “Don’t embarrass yourself. Then again, you’ve always done a good job of that. Old habits die hard, don’t they?”

“Snake!!” Kaz tries again, ignores Big Boss's condescending tone and implores V to do something, but he just shakes his head. With Big Boss in the same room, the chain of command is a different one.

“Why are you letting him do this? How can you just stand there?! Like some kind of - braindead zombie - aren’t you feeling anything?!”

“Oh, he feels plenty alright,” Big Boss comments. “I can show you. Maybe that’s the only way to make you understand. Take a seat.”

Ocelot grabs Kaz by the shoulders, and forces him into nearby chair; Kaz spits and snarls the whole way through.

“Make me understand _what?_! That you are a gigantic, self-righteous asshole?”

“That you cannot take something that’s mine and use it against me. You’ve tried it before - but that’s what I like about you, Kaz. You’re stubborn. You’ll try again and again and again, never admitting defeat, even when you don’t stand a chance. That’s why Ocelot and I were so sure that this operation would be a success.”

“You _fucking_ \- !“

Ocelot resolutely keeps Kaz pinned to his seat, while Big Boss redirects his attention to V, and V meets his gaze, breathes in the smoke of his cigar. He feels like he knows what’s going to happen now, what point Big Boss is trying to prove, and it comes with a surge of anxiety.

“Come here.”

And V moves the instant he’s given the order, closing the distance between himself and Big Boss, who wraps an arm around his waist possessively, slotting against him, grinding their hips against each other, subtly.

Over in his corner Kaz gives an indignant gasp and hisses, “You’re not fucking serious.” Ocelot smacks his temple, and Big Boss ignores him altogether.

“What are you feeling?” Big Boss asks V, planting his large hands on his ass, which drives the heat into V’s cheeks. It’s not the first time Big Boss is getting physical with him, but the first time with an audience. He decides to give an honest answer, “Anxiety.”

“And?” Big Boss coaxes, brushing his lips over his - he’s so close V can feel his heartbeat and breath as if they were his own. “Joy… arousal.” He parts his lips automatically when Big Boss’s tongue swipes over them, and he tastes the rich aroma of the cigar when he’s being kissed deeply, his legs starting to feel weak. Kaz struggles again, attempts to storm out of the room, but Ocelot won’t let him - and so he has no choice but to witness the show Big Boss is putting on for him, and listen to V moan hotly into his Boss’s mouth.

“And did you feel that way when you slept with Kaz?”

“No. Never.”

V hears Kaz swear and hit the nearby desk with his crutch.

Big Boss smiles against his lips, then removes himself from him, drifts towards said desk - Kaz’s work desk, no less. His fingers drum against the surface, indicating wordlessly where he wants V next, and of course V heeds that order, too. Once he leans against the edge, gripping it with both hands, Big Boss maneuvers him around so that Kaz gets a good view of his front, and then he starts palming his growing erection through his BDU slacks.

“So hard for me already,” he says, and takes another drag from his cigar before he snatches V’s lips for a second kiss. He blindly works open V’s belt and pants at the same time, and when his hand slips inside, V keens softly in the back of his throat, arching towards him.

“Boss…”

His eyes momentarily cross Kaz’s horrified stare, and he recognizes the guilt nagging at the back of his consciousness for what it is.

 _Sorry_ _…_

Big Boss takes out V’s dry cock, fists it nice and slow, causing V to squirm. He prods his ear with his tongue and then whispers, lasciviously, “Want me to suck you off?”

“Please…”

He shoots Kaz a triumphant look paired with a smug grin, then hands his lit cigar to V to hold onto, so he has his own hands free. He sinks to his knees - something he’s never done for the other two men in the room - and lavishly licks over his cock, coating it from base to head in his spit. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive tip, then covers it with his lips and sucks on it until his cheeks hollow out, eliciting a serrated cry from his partner, his hips stuttering. Then he slides down his shaft, with the slightest graze of teeth, and begins to blow him in earnest; alternating between using his mouth and tugging at his dick sharply, producing vulgar noises throughout - the wet slide of skin, and weak, stifled gagging whenever V pushes his hips forward to meet him.

“Why am I not surprised!” Kaz exclaims, suddenly, and it goes with a shrill, humorless laugh. “Of course you’d suck your own cock, you sick bastard. You’re just enough of a narcissist to do that.”

Big Boss lets V’s cock slide out of his mouth, and teases the glans with his thumb instead, rubbing and poking his nail into the slit. “Like you wouldn’t,” he says, and bends V’s cock upwards to have better access to his testicles, sucking one of them into his mouth, greedily.

“Ah…ahhh…”

“That’s a _gorgeous_ expression though, isn’t it, Miller,” Ocelot chuckles, his fingers digging sharply into Kaz’s tense shoulders. Big Boss is effortlessly deepthroating V’s cock now, and his double has a hard time remaining standing, keeping his composure, coming undone gradually.

“Did he ever look like that with you?”

Kaz grits his teeth at the snide, ambiguous commentary (he could’ve referred to either Big Boss), and Big Boss wipes over his chin when he finally gets back to his feet, flips V around and pushes him against the table’s edge so that it digs into his stomach, then folds him neatly on top of the desk. He collects his cigar, bites down on it. V’s pants are pulled down his thighs next.

The first thing V registers after his ass is being bared is the sting of the hand slapping against it, and he shrieks, pain blossoming immediately.

“Mine,” Big Boss says, and asks again, “How do you feel?”

“H… Hot, I feel… ah, ah - “ He squirms uselessly, tries to find something to hold onto, but there’s only the edge in front of him.

“Like putty,” Big Boss laughs, and slaps his ass again, for good measure, and the body under him jolts. There’s no resistance at all when Big Boss shoves two fingers into V’s mouth, telling him to suck - V knows what’s coming next, and obediently licks over and between his digits, getting them wet.

“I’ve really had it with your theatrics,” Kaz complains again, loudly. “You just gotta piss on people and mark them like territory. I don’t need to fucking see this - “

“I think you do,” Big Boss brushes him off without even looking at him, and breaches V’s asshole with his middle finger, slick with saliva. He shoves it all the way in to the last knuckle, and wiggles it inside of him until he finds what he’s looking for.

V whimpers and bucks against him when Big Boss’s fingertip rubs against his prostate, and a thick spurt of precome hits the ground between his feet.

“Boss… ah… hah, Boss,” he mewls, quietly at first, but only growing in volume when Big Boss inserts the second finger and starts to fuck them in and out of him, always aiming for the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Boss, I - please, I - “

“What is it?”

“I want you inside me,” V groans, losing himself to his own pleasure and forgetting that Kaz and Ocelot are there, witnessing this debauchery - how he’s completely under Big Boss’s spell. All he wants right now is his master; his hands and his cock and his words of praise. _I_ _’m so proud of you_ , Big Boss had told him, and it had been like a drug, making his chest swell and head spin. _I could always count on you, no matter how dire the circumstances were._

“Of course. Let us see your face…” Big Boss says benevolently, pulls out his fingers, and rolls V onto his back; tugging his pants off his legs in the very same motion, tossing them onto the desk. Kaz growls when some document piles are carelessly shoved off his desk when V is moved around on top of it until his head hangs off the edge, so that Kaz is in his direct line of sight.

Even upside down, V doesn’t think it’s even anger on Kaz’s face anymore. Just frustration and exasperation, perhaps even disappointment - it’s audible when V hears him speak again, just asking that one question in this imploring tone: “ _Why?_ Why are you allowing yourself to be so - “

_Used?_

_Violated?_

_Owned?_

V just blinks at him like he doesn’t understand what Kaz is trying to say - and then the first powerful thrust rocks his body suddenly, shoving him several inches forward and towards Kaz, wrenching surprised gasps from both men simultaneously. The next meaty, obscene smack of Big Boss’s heavy balls against his ass cheeks follows promptly, and V writhes and shudders in Big Boss’s grasp, under the measured but relentless assault of his prostate, when he keeps pumping the full length of his thick cock into him —

“Were you not the same way, Kaz,” Big Boss says evenly, pulling V into every thrust and lazily finishing his cigar at the same time. “I remember fucking you like this…”

“Aah, haah, ah, Boss — ah, guhh, hah -”

“You don’t really like looking into a mirror these days, do you?”

“Fuck you, _Boss,_ ” Kaz snaps at him, teeth bared in a snarl, nostrils flaring; and Big Boss nonchalantly replies, “That’s what I’m doing.”

V can’t really think anymore, pleasure consuming him like a forest fire, but he nontheless responds when Big Boss calls him, “V.”

“Bo - Boss -”

“If I asked you to kill Kaz, would you do it?”

V’s right hand feels around the desk, feels for his pants, the holster, his gun. He has it out and its muzzle aimed at Kaz in less than ten seconds, and Big Boss barks a laugh when Ocelot takes it upon himself to snatch it out of his hand before the safety clicks off, “That was a hypothetical question!”

The color has drained from Kaz’s face, and he sits stiffly in his seat, even without Ocelot holding him down.

“You see -” Big Boss hums, satisfied, and rewards V by pounding him a little harder, a little faster. “But I think we still need to spell it out for Kaz, just to make sure he really gets it. So look at his face and tell him who you belong to, V.”

V’s vision is blurry and jumpy, but he focuses on Kaz, his slumped figure, the growing resignation that stirs nothing in him, as opposed to Big Boss’s presence.

“I - I belong to - Big Boss,” he growls out, almost feral, doggedly. “Always - “

\- You just can’t win when your opponent is Big Boss.

“Good boy,” Big Boss praises him, patting his thigh. “Big Boss belongs to Big Boss. You’d do well to remember that from now on, Kaz, since you didn’t get the memo way back when.”

Kaz doesn’t have a retort to offer this time, but his gaze drops before V’s does. He’s still subjected to the merciless plowing, his mouth hanging open, grunting wheezing and drooling.

“… Hey, Boss,” Ocelot speaks up, suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Would you…?”

“Oh, not at all. Go ahead. I don’t think Kaz is going anywhere.”

Ocelot rounds Kaz’s chair, stepping forward, hands at his belt - Big Boss passes what’s left of his cigar to him, letting Ocelot have the last puff before it’s flicked towards the floor, and ground out with a boot. Big Boss’s hips stop moving, granting Ocelot an opportunity to get his own erect cock out of his pants and into V’s open mouth, who accepts him willingly, without complaint. On the contrary, he eagerly sucks the dick into his mouth, dragging his tongue over it, and Ocelot appreciatively strokes his throat, putting a little pressure on it.

“Mnn, mmgh…”

“Pretty sure that wasn’t part of the hypnotherapy,” Ocelot quips.

“I did some fine-tuning,” Big Boss laughs, and slams right back in, and Ocelot’s cock is driven into V’s bulging throat in the same instant. His reflexes kick in when both of his holes are being fucked so deeply, and they pin his shoulders and waist to the desk to keep him steady despite his gagging. V fumbles for Ocelot’s shirt, fist clenching and unclenching, tearing up.

“Mmm, mm, nhnngh, rrngh, ghh - ”

Kaz has gone silent. Big Boss, on the other hand, is as talkative and domineering as ever.

“You wanna come, V?” He says, grabs V’s cock and tugs at it a few times, then plays with the foreskin, pinching and pulling.

His answer is a very distressed sounding _Mmmm!_ , and V arching his back as much as his current position allows.

“Not yet,” Big Boss denies him, hand leaving his cock and wandering over to the inside of his thigh instead, “You gotta make Ocelot cum, first.”

“Aw,” Ocelot coos. “You didn’t have to. Thanks, Boss.” Ocelot buries himself deeper, fucking V’s throat rhythmically, and V clings onto the man viciously, pulling him closer rather than shoving him away -

“Aah, shit, mind the teeth -” Ocelot cusses, fisting his hair, slamming wildly into him until he spills with a long-winded, satisfied groan - and has to pull out almost immediately because that was a little too much bite just now, not that he could be blamed - and so most of Ocelot’s cum splatters onto his face, his chest, and the desk.

“Ah, haaa - “

He only catches a brief glance of Kaz, whose face is buried in his hands. V doesn’t care. He wipes some cum out of his beard and eye, searches for Big Boss.

“Please!” He squeezes out, still coughing, throat and voice raw. Ocelot absentmindedly pats his cheek before zipping up, murmuring something - _lucky you_ \- then minds his own business.

“You can beg better than that,” Big Boss says coolly, his grip on V’s dick firm but unmoving, and V thinks he’s about to lose his mind, feels like his dick is about to explode. He’s looks and sounds like a mess, skin flushed and slick with sweat, hair disheveled with cum sticking to it.

“Boss, sir please, I just, I’m - I wanna cum, I need you to make me cum!!!” V very nearly screams, shrill, desperate.

Big Boss narrows his eyes, clicks his tongue, and begins to jerk him off in a rhythm that matches his hips snapping against his ass.

It barely takes a minute like this, and then V absolutely loses it, his voice breaking when he screams his release for real - coming so hard it knocks the air out of his lungs, and Big Boss has to physically hold onto him so he doesn’t roll off the desk and hurt himself, spasming violently. V slams his bionic fist onto the wooden surface, leaving a very noticeable dent, his cock erupting and covering his own uniform in long white streaks. Big Boss yanks at his ankles when he stops convulsing, hammering his cock into him fast and brutal until he comes himself, filling him up.

V feels the cum leaking out of him when Big Boss pulls out, and tucks himself back in. V’s eyelids feel heavy, and he doesn’t look anymore, only listens.

“So, Kaz,” Big Boss says, all matter-of-fact. “I’m sure you’ll agree that he does have feelings. It’s just that,” he pauses, thoughtfully. “You’re not very good at stirring them.”

 

***

 

He wakes up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, when someone next to him stirs, and places a gentle hand at his shoulder.

“Had another nightmare?” Kaz whispers, inching closer. V goes rigid and snaps, “I don’t know.”

Kaz laughs knowingly, hand wandering lower, his index fingers drawing circles around one of V’s dark, erect nipples.

“Yeah, actually, it sounded more like you were _enjoying_ yourself. If you know what I mean.” V can see that he’s winking at him, even in the half-light. The fingers are wandering even lower, dangerously close to the hardness between his thighs. “If you’re in the mood for messing around, I can - “

“Let’s just go back to sleep,” V gruffs, and rolls over, presenting his back to Kaz and putting at least a foot of distance between them.

“…Alright?” Kaz says perplexed, and mercifully nothing else.

 


End file.
